Secret of Faith
by binx-349
Summary: I never really thought you would keep waiting for me." GSR
1. Part I

Secrets of Faith – 

"_I never believed you would wait for me." GSR_

Disclaimer – If I owned them there would be several more digits on the end of my bank balance. Sadly they are not mine (trust me, I checked just in case). I do own a couple of seasons on DVD… but I am also reliably informed that this does **not** count.

Spoilers – Another one exploring the post-Butterflied idea, what could have been (or what we wish had been maybe…).

Rating - PG 13 (just because I'm paranoid.)

A/N – It's probably been done in some form or other before.. but then again hasn't everything? Blame this on the fact I had a title and just needed something to put under it! That and that I have way more spare time right now than normal, and have to find something to fill the hours. Mistakes are my pets; I like to let them roam free. Reviews: make my day.

The dark wine red of the room suddenly seemed vaguely oppressive in the darkening light. She had always found it quite inviting, a relaxing colour, and in keeping with her personality. She had walked in the apartment after a longer day than she felt she had, had in a very long time. Flopping down onto her sofa was about all she felt up to and she knew there was no way she would actually be able to sleep. Her insomnia would not be improved in the slightest by the events of the day.

Watching the interrogation of Vincent Lurie was a suitable end of a spectacularly terrible day for Sara. She had already realized she had made Catherine duly suspicious thanks to her comments after the viewing of Debbie's body, and Grissom's actions and subsequent confession had put her entirely on edge. She shivered violently and took hold of the quilt spread over her daybed before wrapping it around her shaking shoulders.

She put her entire physical reaction down to a mild case of shock. Shock at what she told herself. The entire scenario? Or Grissom's admission? A mixture of both was probably the best answer, but one that Sara was doing particularly well at denying. She refused to admit to letting Grissom get to her like that again.

She sat cross legged on the Sofa picking up a Magazine in the vain hope that it might take her mind off everything that was clouding her judgment at the moment. She simply didn't seem to be able to keep her mind on any one thing at a time and with good reason. She dropped the magazine back onto the coffee table and leaned back into the cushions of the seat closing her eyes in contemplation.

She almost wished that she had not been there to see the interrogation, that way at least she would still be in the dark. A comfortable place to be in her opinion. The fact that she wasn't worth the risk hit her hard. She had always believed that perhaps he just didn't feel the same way. Knowing that he felt the same way as her, and yet refused to take the risk was strangely more painful than simple rejection. She closed her eyes in an attempt to ward off the tears she had been holding back for a while. She prided herself on letting very little affect her, the fact he could get underneath her skin like this made her decidedly uneasy. The pricking in her eyes told her that she was fighting a losing battle and eventually she gave in to the tears, simply letting them fall.

She must have been even more tired than she had imagined as the next thing she heard was the harsh ringing of her phone from somewhere in the vicinity of her waist.

'So much for not being able to sleep.' she thought to herself. Dragging herself into consciousness, before reaching for her cell phone, and mentally preparing herself to be called back into work.

"Sidle." She answered briskly.

An unfamiliar voice replied. "Excuse me Ma'am, do you know a Mr. Grissom?"

Sara stammered out a 'yes' slightly knocked off balance at the unexpected question.

"You were the last missed call on his cell. We figured you might be able to come pick him up and take him home." Sara frowned, utterly confused, but took down the directions nonetheless. She thanked the voice distractedly and hung up. She snagged the keys to her Tahoe as she passed the table by her front door, and was out at the car within moments.

Her mind was in overdrive the entire journey. What was Grissom doing that involved needing her to pick him up? Was that not normally Catherine's jurisdiction? Sara was fairly sure he would not voluntarily have called her. It was these moments when she truly realized just how far downhill their relationship had gone. There was a time when he would not have hesitated to call her for anything. That time was long gone and it seemed was an irretrievable situation. It was way too far gone for her to try and make amends. She had already embarrassed herself enough, if he wanted to sort things out, it was damn well going to be his initiative, and not because she pushed for it. Come to think of it, why exactly had she agreed to do this anyway? Sara of course knew the answer. When you feel that way about someone you aren't about to turn down an opportunity to see them, are you? Even if they will almost certainly be less than thrilled to see you.

As she pulled over next to the bar she groaned slightly, what else could manage to make a day like this that bit worse. "Boom" as it turned out was in fact a restaurant and a bar, and luckily, surprisingly quiet for 10:30 at night. Upon entering the bar it was difficult not to notice the familiar figure slumped against the bar. She wandered over, seriously considering simply sitting down, ordering a drink and pretending she had nothing to do with him. He was nursing an empty glass which must have previously been filled with some highly intoxicating drink to have rendered him into the position which he now found himself.

She smiled grimly at the bartender and turned towards the form leaning on the bar. "What the hell have you done to yourself. I'm the one who should be drinking myself into a stupor right about now." she muttered quietly.

Sara turned back towards the apparently long suffering barman, "You think you could give me a hand getting him to the car?"

"Sure, I conned his keys before calling you. You might need them." The young man tossed her the keys before wandering around to help.

"You going to be Ok once you get him home?"

"I'm sure I'll manage something." She bit her top lip slightly and furrowed her brow looking at the apparently comatose form sprawled in the backseat of her car. She shook her head and huffed a frustrated breath, before making sure no limbs were in the way, and firmly slamming the door.


	2. Part II

Secrets of Faith Pt II – 

"_I never believed you would wait for me." GSR. _

Disclaimer – Not mine, not at all, Nada.

Spoilers – Up to Butterflied.

A/N –Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It means more to me than you realize. I never really pictured Grissom as the type to get dead drunk either. But I will do anything in the name of GSR. I think I'm going to be able to have some fun with this… Many, many thanks to Phoenix who took on the arduous task of beta-ing this for me.

and -- just in case I don't have time to update again before Christmas. --

_**A very, very Merry Christmas to everyone reading… have a great one! **(eat plenty of mince pies and brandy butter while you can justify it!)_

It was only once Sara had started to drive that she actually got round to considering why Grissom might have come to be sat in a bar, drinking away oblivion that night. It was not, as far as she knew, indicative of his normal behavior. Although what he did away from work she really didn't know. Maybe she had just never been called before, although she genuinely doubted that as a scenario. Grissom was not the closet drunk type.

The thought that he might be finding the day's events as difficult to process as she was, was really relatively comforting. If the body of a woman who just looked like her could affect him like this… She ground her line of thought to an abrupt halt. It probably wasn't anything to do with that she reasoned. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her that this was probably untrue, but this fleeting thought was quickly quashed. He was probably just tired, having a bad day, just like her it seemed.

Sara risked a quick glance over her shoulder at the next set of traffic lights to check on the state of her lone passenger. He still had yet to speak although his eyes were open, and met hers when she turned around. She turned abruptly back to the road swallowing convulsively. For some unknown reason whenever she was around him, despite the fact he was totally inebriated, he seemed to exude something that drew her to him. There was almost a hypnotic quality to it. It was all she could do to stop herself from reaching out to him. She had done it before after all. There was at least one time she had not stopped herself and It had backfired on her, she could think of quite a few more, things rarely seemed to go as planned. It had never really done her any good had it? Much as she would have loved to let her heart rule her mind it would not be the practical solution. Nor would it be particularly prudent. She would simply end up either humiliating herself more than she already had, or get herself fired. Neither of these was a viable option in her opinion.

The silence in the car was beginning to get to her, and roughly jabbing at the radio she drowned out the silence with an unknown song, humming along absentmindedly.

If his relentless stare was anything to go by, he was far more sober than he was letting on. She could all but feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It's said you can tell when someone is watching you, and in this case Sara would agree with that statement wholeheartedly. She wasn't sure whether to classify the feeling as creepy or strangely comforting. She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to rid herself of the shivers up her spine, and dragged her stubborn eyes back to the road, instead of her rearview mirror.

It seemed like a lifetime before Sara pulled up outside his townhouse. Grumbling quietly at his state of mind she jumped out of the car and pulled open the rear door forcefully. Leaning over his body slightly she prodded him experimentally with a finger, almost as if touching him might infect her with some horrible ailment. She soon found that this did not work as planned, so placing a tentative hand on his shoulder she shook him gently. When this too appeared to have no effect, Sara decided that it was about time for some serious action. She reached around his body and attempted to hoist him into an upright position. This was one task that was easier said than done and took several moments worth of struggling with his un-cooperative form until he was in a more useful position.

"Ok, this is ridiculous." She declared leaning against the roof of the car.

A faintly slurred voice replied. "Not really." Sara almost jumped a mile. It took several seconds for her to recover enough to reply.

"Yeah, it is. But it would be a lot less ridiculous if you would actually try and help me a little." He turned to look at her blinking silently, before dragging himself out of the car and leaning against a nearby wall. Sara locked the Tahoe and producing his key-ring from her pocket she held them out to him. "I hope you remember which key you need to get into your house, 'cause I sure don't know."

He cocked his head to the side slightly. "Of course I do." He mumbled. "I have a PhD… I should hope I would remember something basic like that." was added as an afterthought.

Sara pursed her lips in a half smile at his self-depreciative tone. "Well, lead on then." She hooked an arm around his back supporting him a little as he walked.

He looked around the apartment, rather disorientated but at least he could support himself without falling over, which had been Sara's main worry when they had left the bar earlier that evening. He had evidently recovered sufficiently since then, for which she was eternally grateful. He waved her in vaguely and wandered over to the sofa dropping onto it heavily. Sara decided the best course of action would be to simply make herself at home, considering he really didn't seem to care much one way or the other. She walked to the kitchen snagging a couple of glasses from the draining board and filling them with water.

She returned to the living room to find Grissom sitting on the sofa staring at the floor intently.

"I wonder, where do you think they got this floor from." Sara gave him an odd look. "It has to have come from somewhere, right? Things don't just appear you know. Molecular Impossibility." Sara bit back a wide grin, who knew Grissom was a philosophical drunk. Thinking about it, it was probably a fairly logical step. He was normally choc full of quotes and philosophical jargon; this was simply the downgraded version. She put the glass down on the coffee table in the centre of the room.

"It probably came from a quarry somewhere. I got you some water."

"Are you sure?"

"About the quarry or the water. I honestly don't think there is any doubt about either." Grissom flopped his head down onto the back of the sofa as if perhaps these two thoughts were too many to fit in his head at the moment. "Are you going to drink that water or not."

"Maybe." Sara sat down on the coffee table opposite him leaning her elbows on her knees and interlacing her fingers. He didn't make any move from his position and after several minutes of this she was beginning to lose patience so she picked up the glass again.

"You know what, if you don't drink some water you will feel like hell in the morning." She paused. "You'll thank me for this later." Or not, she added mentally. Grissom groaned quietly.

"You're still here." He stated blandly. Sara rolled her eyes and shoved the glass into his hands. He lifted it up in front of his face tapping it with his finger and watching the ripples appear on the surface.

"Yup, and I'm not going anywhere for a while. Now, drink it." Grissom lowered the glass and looked blankly at Sara. He thought for a moment with his mouth slightly open before deeming it sensible to say something.

"I think… this must be like what it feels like to be married."

Sara's jaw dropped. That was definitely an uncharacteristic statement. She was stranded somewhere between stunned by the remark and mildly irritated by the fact he had just implied that she nagged. Sara closed her mouth quickly and frowned, she was still trying to think of an intelligent answer to the previous comment when he spoke again.

"Do you want to get married?"

A/N - Next Part should be up in the next couple of days after a few tweaks.


	3. Part III

Secrets of Faith Pt. III

Disclaimer – Of course I don't own them… (I think some of us could do a better job than TPTB, but there you go.)

A/N – I'm still smiling from all the reviews.. you guys are too nice to me, and yeah I know that was a mean place to end…Thanks again to Phoenix for her Beta-ing skills.

To say she was surprised would be a considerable understatement. She took it to be a strictly impersonal enquiry, the thought that it might be anything else quickly driven from her brain. Even a severely drunk Grissom wouldn't propose to anyone, let alone her. She couldn't deny however that her imagination went into overdrive for a few moments. She sighed resignedly, he couldn't do it. Saying it once in a day was enough to drive the point home. "Yes… one day."

"It might be nice." He looked a little wistful and stared at some distant point on the far wall of the room. "…one day." He finally took a few sips of the water before draining the glass and firmly placing it back on the table.

He looked seemed to consider something for a moment rubbed his forehead and woozily went to stand up. "I think I forgot to set my VCR timer..."

Sara stood to follow him but found herself dismissed with a vague wave and sat down on the sofa where he had been moments before. She had to wonder how he intended to set the timer in the state he was in. She wasn't sure about him, but she certainly had problems setting hers, sober or otherwise. "What were you wanting to watch anyway?" Sara enquired craning her neck slightly to peer at his hunched figure over the VCR.

".. there was um.. something interesting on." He fumbled blindly with the buttons not making a huge amount of progress.

What a helpful description that was. "And that something interesting would be?" she prompted.

He frowned again. "documentary," was all the answer he supplied her with and realizing she would probably get nothing else out of him, she went for a different tack entirely.

'It was now or never', she reasoned. It was best to interrogate him when he was far less likely to remember later and when it was more likely she would get an answer, given the fact that his brain was probably not working on its higher functions right now. She knew that in a way she was taking advantage of his inebriated state, but she couldn't seem to muster up the self restraint to stop herself from wanting to know what went on inside his head. It had always intrigued her to a degree, but the minor glimpses she got into his complicated psyche recently simply left her wanting more.

"Why were you there Grissom? At that bar."

He shrugged without turning around or giving her an answer. She walked over to where he was sitting and slid onto her knees on the floor beside him. "There has to be a reason."

"It drowns out the sounds. Makes it quiet." He tapped the side of his head and looked directly at Sara who was simply watching him, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.

He shook his head lightly as if trying to dislodge an unpleasant image and a frown creased his face. "You always said you could hear them… I found a way to drown them out."

Sara took a sharp breath and leaned in, brushing a hand over his shoulder hesitantly.

"After so many years you think you've become immune to everything. You've seen the all the worst of what life can throw at you. But then of course something happens out of the blue that throws all you thought you felt- thought you knew, into a tailspin…Makes you realize." He paused seemingly deep in his thoughts. "I'm not immune, I never have been."

"What aren't you immune to?" a tentative question, asked into the silence that seemed to have fallen like a blanket over the room. Sara didn't really expect an answer; it was one of those questions that someone like Grissom spends his life trying to avoid.

"You..." the answer was so muted that she almost thought it hadn't been said. Yet her heart contracted at that single word. It was the sort of admission she had always dreamed of…but did it really change anything. The answer was probably not, but a girl could but hope. At least this time he had said it to her face and that was a small triumph in itself. The fact that he had several drinks did enter her mind, but just because your inhibitions are lower doesn't make the things you say any less true. In fact, now she thought about it, it meant he was unlikely to be hiding things. The silence between them extended for several seconds before he continued to speak.

"Every time I saw her it was like bad deja-vu, like it was you… an image in the corner of your eye that when you move to look at it properly it immediately moves out of reach again. I looked closely and knew it couldn't be, but other times, the similarities scared me more than you could imagine." he huffed a breath and shook his head and watched his fingers tracing a faint line down her arm, almost as if to check she were really there. "You're really here right?"

She put a couple of fingers under his chin lifting his head until he was looking into her eyes again. She nodded slowly, almost getting lost in the unsettled depths of his eyes. It took her what seemed like minutes to realize that his hand had encircled her wrist, holding it against his cheek. His fingers caressing the delicate skin on the back of her hand.

"I don't want you to be immune." A whisper of a few simple words that exposed everything she had always stopped herself from revealing before. It was a feeling of vulnerability that she had never liked, but now it was said she found it to be strangely refreshing. She only had to hope that the words were taken in the way she intended. Worst scenario, he shot her down again. Laying her dignity on the line was not something she enjoyed, but recently it seemed to have become the norm. She now also had to hope desperately that it wouldn't be for nothing.


	4. Part IV

Secrets of Faith IV – 

Disclaimer – They aren't mine… not even a little itty bitty bit.

A/N - My new years resolution try and write (slightly) longer chapters! So I'm starting that now.

My second resolution "Don't write fanfic during the semester" - you can start taking bets on how long that will last now ;)

Huge thanks again to Phoenix for Beta-ing and everyone who is still reading and reviewing.

She found herself still staring into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, until the moment was entirely broken when he leapt from the cool stone floor where he had been sitting, to be violently sick in what she assumed must be the bathroom just moments later.

Sara ran her hand over her face and let out a resigned breath. 'Wow, you obviously really know how to make a guy want you. You touch him and he immediately runs off to be sick. Great reaction. Just what you've always dreamed of. '

She pushed herself up from the floor and made her way to the doorway of the bathroom, where he now sat leaning back against the side of the bathtub. "I think maybe you need to sleep this off." She was leaning casually against the door frame, rubbing the side of her index finger with her thumb. He ran his fingers slowly through his hair and grunted softly.

He mumbled something fairly incomprehensible and dropped his head back against the side of the tub with an audible clunk. Sara grimaced and leaned down to offer her hands to help him up. After washing his mouth out thoroughly, he followed her fairly obediently for the moment, into the living area where she poured him a couple more glasses of water, standing over him threateningly, to make sure he actually drank them both.

After a fair amount of coercing on Sara's part, she managed to get him to consider sleeping in his own bed rather than the uncomfortable looking couch in the corner of his sitting room. Dragging him forcibly across the room and getting some fairly vague assent that his bedroom was indeed that direction. She finally got to see what she could previously only dream about… Grissom's bedroom.

At last she got to see his room; there is a lot you can find out about someone from the décor of their house, and in particular their bedroom. Sara was nothing if not an expert at examining scenes and drawing conclusions about the people that inhabited them.

It was decorated rather similarly to the rest of his house in a rather clinical grey; Sara wasn't sure how he could sleep in such a sterile looking environment. Maybe it was her feminine side coming through, but she needed some warmth in a room to truly feel comfortable. The fact that even here, he had jars full of god knew what on the shelves with the books, gave her the creeps. It was very reminiscent of his office, where he seemed to spend a large amount of time. Maybe the familiarity made it comfortable. Her brief examination of the room was cut short somewhat when she turned around.

Grissom had immediately started to peel off his T-shirt, then his slacks, paying little notice to Sara, whose eyes widened markedly and she spun around rapidly to face the wall, a blush rising in her face. She felt as if it were something that she should really not be witnessing, despite the fact that she really would have rather liked to be helping him along, and that her presence didn't seem to be bothering him in the least. It simply didn't seem right to just watch him somehow, like a weird kind of voyeurism. It would also just make it harder for her to keep her itchy fingers to herself. She found it hard enough to ignore the almost magnetic attraction; there was no need to compound that problem by having seen him minus most of his usual layers of clothes.

She gave him a good few minutes of rustling, before she decided he must surely be done. She turned to find him struggling with his pajama shirt. The logic of buttons seemed to be escaping him utterly. Striding over she brushed his hands away casually and proceeded to undo all the buttons he had attempted, and re-button it properly. Her hands lingered over each movement, handling it as if it were the most important task in the world.

She looked up from her undertaking, finding his face so close to her own their noses were all but touching. It was one of those moments you can see coming from a mile off, and leaning into him seemed the most natural thing in the world. Sara could feel his hands roaming her back and something snapped her back into reality. She broke the kiss, pushing away against his shoulders firmly.

"Bed, before you do something you will almost certainly regret in the morning." She sounded far more assured than she felt. Sara ran a trembling finger over her lips disbelievingly. He could still kiss however much he may have drunk. It was obviously a natural talent.

He drifted over to the bed, suitably chastised. Sliding between the sheets, he mumbled something that resembled 'goodnight', turning over and curling himself into his duvet. Sara gave a crooked smile, returning the gesture with a whispered "Night."

She was sure he would be fine, but she was also not willing to take the risk that something might happen. Realizing that it was probably not sensible to leave him alone, she scanned to room to identify where she could sit. She thought that sitting on the same bed as him was simply asking for trouble, and the floor was not her favorite option. In the end she decided to make herself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and ensconced herself into a winged armchair across the room, under the quilt that lay at the end of his bed. She was borrowing it whether he liked it or not, and he was certainly not in any condition to argue with her at the moment. It had taken him all of two minutes to drop off to sleep; honestly she was not surprised, he looked as tired as she felt.

Sara was woken several hours later by a less than dignified squawk. A newly awoken Grissom had just discovered his new room mate. He had immediately pushed himself upright, leaning back onto his hands. Sara would have paid good money to get a picture of the look of shock embedded into his features. She bit back a smile deeming that it was probably not very tactful.

"Headache?" A terse nod was the only reply she gained. Sara stood, massaging a crick out of her neck and moved to collect the trusty glass of water and a packet of Paracetamol from her bag.

"If it's not a silly question, what are you doing here?" He massaged the back of his head with a free hand and grimaced.

"You uh... were a little indisposed. So they called me to come and pick you up. I'll drop you off to pick up your car later."

"I thought I might have imagined that." The corner of Sara's mouth twitched and she shook her head calmly. He groaned. "I'm sorry."

"S'ok, I didn't really have anything better to be doing." she muttered shrugging.

"That's really not the point, you shouldn't have had to come and bail me out of that kind of situation."

"I'm sure you would do the same for me if the occasion ever arose." He solemnly dipped his head once, wincing slightly, and watched as she replaced the tablets to her bag and turned to sit on the end of his bed. She chose to sit about as far down the other end from him as she could get deciding it would be safer, and less likely to induce a bad reaction.

She watched as he downed the pills sitting the glass back down on the nightstand.

He made no attempt at stopping her. She sat cross legged and rubbed the sheets between her fingers. She looked up from her hands to his face. He was watching her with an expression that beheld a mixture of confusion and expectation. She took a calming breath before she spoke and kept her eyes on him to monitor his responses carefully. She was treating it rather like an interrogation although she would never admit to it.

"How much do you remember about last night?"

"Enough." A silence extended for several seconds. She furrowed her eyebrows a little, 'that was just plain evasive'. "Did you mean what you said?" again he nodded jerkily keeping his eyes averted from her face, seemingly staring at an unidentifiable point on the wall to the right. Getting any words at all out of him this morning was like pulling teeth, and it made the night before seem positively easy. She gave him a little slack, mainly because he was probably nursing the hangover of the century. He was allowed to be a little grouchy under the circumstances.

She kneaded the bedclothes beneath her legs, it was a nervous habit and she had to clench her fingers to stop herself. "You don't have to keep up the façade you know. It's good to know that you're human. We do wonder sometimes." She smiled genuinely, to show that it was meant as a lighthearted comment.

"You're still under the assumption that I'm a robot?" He smiled halfheartedly, but looked mildly hurt by the implication. As she could not be sure that he was not just suffering the aftermath of the night before, she didn't choose to push it.

"You actually believe everything I say." Sara shook her head ruefully. "I know better than to think that. I was upset when I said you didn't feel anything."

He furrowed his eyebrows as if deep in thought. "Why are you still here?" His expression was unreadable and Sara stood almost immediately and backed off, almost tripping on his jeans which still lay on the ground.

Sara felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. Every time she so much as tried to help, to be a friend, or to just repair the damage to their relationship, it only seemed to make it worse. Why could she not learn that this never ended the way she hoped and move on ?

"I uh… I should go shouldn't I... I'm sorry, I just." She was appalled that she could barely string a sentence together and turned around to search for her bag. She was shaking slightly and clasped her hands on the sides of her jeans to hide their trembling. She would never want him to see just how much control he had over her, it was the sort of power she had long avoided giving away. The fact that he seemed to have no idea about this was one of her few defenses. She had learnt long ago, never to let anyone know too much, especially things that they could too easily take advantage of. It had happened before and she was sure as hell not going to let it happen again.

His eyes widened. "Sara…don't. Sara, that's not what I meant." She stopped and looked back over her shoulder not meeting his eyes. Her posture itself portrayed the unspoken question that seemed to be hanging in the air, like a portent of something to come.

"I don't want you to go." He looked back up at her with an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his eyes. "I just… never expected you would stay here with me." He whispered. Sara finally met his eyes and her heart contracted rapidly at the emotion in their depths. Not speaking for a few seconds, Sara bit her lip hesitantly and contemplated him quietly. It seemed that he didn't even notice her appraisal but watched her shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other.

She stilled herself forcibly and smiled in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "I'm more patient than you give me credit for." Grissom chuckled and nodded thoughtfully, there was obviously a deeper meaning being alluded to behind the words, but one he was as yet, unwilling to explore. He chose not to reply with more than an 'Mmm' of agreement. Before the quiet could become too pronounced, Sara broke it.

"Do you uh, have coffee in this house? Because I don't know about you but I need at least a couple of cups full before I can call myself awake." She eyed him searchingly as she spoke, she was sure that he knew there was something else she would rather have asked, but obviously chose not to push her, knowing it would end with more of a revelation than he was comfortable with. At some point whatever was unsaid would come out, but Sara was content to let it be for a bit, she would work on him for a better explanation later.

He swallowed, with his mouth and head both still feeling a little like they were filled with cotton wool. "Uh, yeah in the kitchen. Help yourself to some; I'll be out in a minute."

TBC


	5. Part V

Secret of Faith V – 

A/N - Thanks once again to Phoenix for her Beta and to everyone who just keeps on reviewing, mucho thanks to you.

Sara moved quickly to the kitchen and leaned both her hands onto the countertop. She had chosen a quick escape plan to afford herself a little time to regroup. Taking a deep breath, she let it out steadily and turned to make a cup of coffee. Although her intention had been to get out of the room, there was some truth to the excuse and her need for coffee. She did really want a clear head when she finally attempted to get some sense out of him. Tossing a breath mint into her mouth she moved around the kitchen, 'who cared if it made her coffee taste like mud', at least she would feel better about breathing anywhere near him.

His words she understood; His motivations and his objectives, she did not. 'What did he want from her?' It was one question she never tired of asking herself. She had come up with many answers over the years, but never had any from him directly, and that was the aim of the conversation she intended to initiate.

As horrible as she felt this morning; having got very little sleep, and still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, she was determined to get somewhere. If she left, she knew that her chances of getting something worthwhile out of him would be severely diminished.

He wanted her to stay, and yet every time he was always the one to back away. His actions had always confused her, and she had told him so. Her motions were intuitive. She walked around the kitchen, able to find things even though she couldn't know where they would be. In a lot of ways their minds worked in very similar ways, she simply had to put her own logic into his kitchen.

Mugs were easy enough in the cupboard above the kettle-- that was just common sense. Coffee was more difficult, as he kept it with the medications. Sara couldn't help but smile. Who else would categorize their kitchen, and still put Coffee with the drugs. Something else caught her eye as she removed the jar. She hesitated for a moment but curiosity got the better of her in the end, and putting down the packet on the counter she pried the piece of paper out from between the side of the cupboard and the numerous bottles. Sara gave a closer look at it and frowned. Hearing some stirring from the other side of the room she jammed it hastily back in and pushed the cupboard closed again. That was something she would have to come back to later.

Grissom entered the kitchen to find Sara busily stirring two mugs of instant coffee. Her thoughts were running around rather like a sugar-high chipmunk. Yet her calm exterior didn't indicate this. Hiding her feelings just kept getting easier, practice makes perfect after all. She handed him the mug with a slightly forced smile.

"Feeling better?" She smiled at the slightly muddled expression on his face.

He grunted a 'yes'. He had decided apparently to get dressed, but even then it wasn't what she was used to seeing him in. She had never thought of Grissom as owning jeans, at least she hadn't seen him wearing any since she was up in San Francisco, and even then it was only once. He had been at a department barbeque, what must have been about nine years ago, she had always remembered that day and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't the first time she had met him, of that she was sure, but for some reason it had always stuck in her mind far more vividly than their initial meeting.

He was wearing a sage green T shirt that she was fairly certain she had never seen before. She had the barely controllable urge to ruffle his hair, but managed to stop herself in time, shoving her hands resolutely into her pockets - just in case she felt tempted again. There was something undeniably sexy about his whole sleepy demeanor. But she was pretty certain that tousling his hair was a sure fire way to send him running off in the opposite direction, at speed, something which was definitely not her intent.

He sat at the breakfast bar and opened the newspaper he had been holding. He muttered something about the state of the country and promptly closed it again. Strangely it didn't seem as odd to be sat drinking coffee in his apartment as she had imagined it might. There was a comfortable sort of quiet that you only get with certain people, not awkward, just noticeably there.

Grissom stood, meandering over to the refrigerator and leaning in to pull out butter and finding a pack of bagels. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast ? at oh, 4 am." Sara gave him a slightly quizzical look.

"Yup, I'm hungry." He shrugged lightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be offering her breakfast at 4 o'clock in the morning. It was one thing for her to be finding it natural, it was quite another to find that he was making the effort.

"You don't feel ill? I thought you might be hung-over or something." He simply shook his head and looked expectantly at her, waiting for an answer.

Sara smiled slowly, "Yeah, sounds good." She watched him seemingly expertly spread butter, and rummage around in cupboards for spreads.

"Will this do?" He held up an unidentifiable jar, and she nodded anyway.

After all, who cares what it is? He's actually making me breakfast. I'll probably eat it anyway- so long as it's vegetarian. She was almost certain that he would remember that after what happened the last time. She still had that plant; it sat on her kitchen window sill. She had never been good at looking after plants but that one had survived much longer than most, and it was still going.

It was only once he handed her the plate, she had scrutinized it for a long moment and put it back down that she decided it would be a good idea to question the contents before she ate it -- just in case. "Uh, Griss, What is that?"

He turned from his spreading to look at her. "Marmite, I bought it when I was in London last year." He shrugged and left her still looking at the bagel. "It's vegetarian." He added as an afterthought.

"You went to London?" Sara eyed him with a bemused expression, leaving the bagel on the plate.

"Mm, Entomological Conference. UCL have an excellent department." He sucked a bit of spread from his finger and dropped the knife into the sink. "You intending on eating that, or just watching it?"

"It's up for debate. I still say it looks suspicious."

Grissom shrugged mildly, "Well if you don't want it…"

Sara inhaled deeply, wrinkled her nose, smiled contritely and pushed it to the side. "Maybe in a minute." She had to admit that the smell had put her off a little. As much as she had thought she would eat anything he had made, she was seriously considering going back on that opinion. As she folded her arms Grissom turned back to put some food away in a cupboard. He kept his back to her as he spoke.

"There are parts of last night I think I need to talk to you about." Sara looked over at him quickly, trying desperately to gauge just what he was talking about. He still had his back to her, a blatant avoidance of her eyes and it kept her from being able to read his expression. Not that she had ever really been able to read him that well. She could imagine that he would be more that likely to regret the entire evening. She would be left out in the cold yet again.

He continued slowly. "It's a little hazy, there are bits where I'm not too sure if I was imagining it or not. I need a bit of...uh, clarification."

"Which part was that?" A cautious smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, she couldn't help but imagine that his might be the same as hers. He smiled knowingly grabbing his plate and making his way over to sit on the stool next to her.

"I have the ominous feeling that I might say or do something wrong and this-this could very easily backfire on me." He looked a little tense, eerily like he had nothing left to lose. She was surprised that he was even breaching the subject at all, not to mention doing anything. After a short pause Sara decided that a little prodding was in order.

"We'll I'm not going to be able to tell you anything unless you tell me what it is you're thinking of..." She knew she was acting rather like a six year-old with all of her backing around the subject. But she had decided a while ago that she was no longer going to be the one pushing for this. He would have to put _himself_ into that uncomfortable situation. Not her, and not again.

He extended a hand towards her hesitantly. Sara, not sure what was going on simply watched in amazement as he grasped her hand pulling her to her feet. She was still not entirely sure what was supposed to be going on and quirked her head to one side as she looked at him.

The movement was so sudden that she barely had time to process what was going to happen. It was something she had never expected from him – when he was sober anyway. He placed his hands on either side of her face looking at her only for a split second, before descending to meet her lips.

She grasped his shirt tightly between her fingers, as if daring him to try and move away. If he had she would probably have gripped all the tighter. Once she had got hold of him, she was damned if she was going to let him go without a fight.

His hands trailed down from her face, brushing his thumbs over her collarbones lightly.

She thanked whatever god was watching over her for having that mint earlier. It was a little strange that this was her first comprehensible thought was of her breath, but when stunned, people often think about the strangest things. A second later it finally struck her; he was doing this, not under the influence of either her pushing, or the alcohol. It opened up a myriad of possibilities for the future, sending her imagination into overdrive. She thought back to the events of the previous day, his confession, and the case. Details began to filter into her consciousness, the regret in his voice, his almost obsessive treatment of the case, his use of the past tense. He said he 'couldn't do it ', doesn't mean he won't in the future. Eventually she decided that it might be better to ignore the debate in her head, at least for the moment.

It was only after several minutes of reveling in his proximity before the straight thinking part of her brain finally surfaced over the sensory overload and she reluctantly broke away. She was trying desperately to suppress the glowing smile that was so close to the surface, but was failing miserably. She imagined that the light flush of her cheeks would probably give her away as it was.

She parted her lips without emitting any sound for a long moment, before forcing herself to speak. "Much as I would love to continue this, I really should go. I have…no, we have to go to work tonight, and I need a shower and a few hours of decent rest before that. No offence but that chair of yours- not conducive to a good night's sleep."

"You sleep?" He feigned a bemused expression arching an eyebrow.

"Contrary to popular opinion, yes. I'll be by later to pick you up."

Grissom's eyes abruptly widened in shock. "Pick me up for what?" His confusion was almost funny; Sara had to wonder what was going through his mind. Well, turn-about is fair play, and it was fun too. He had done his fair share of leaving her in that same position for one day.

"Work," She paused, "You have no car remember." He nodded in comprehension as she waved over her shoulder, leaving him still standing, ostensibly dazed, in the middle of his sitting room.


	6. Part VI

Chapter VI - 

_A/N - Blah. It's an eensy little filler chapter, sorry. Huge thanks go out to Phoenix, as always, for her Beta. I know I haven't updated this in ages, it's the "Attack of the fic deleting computer" and the killer exams I tell you (yeah, excuses - excuses.)_

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It wasn't until she was back down at her car that the full force of had just happened hit her rather like a speeding bus. She had just spent the night with Gil Grissom, and he had kissed her - more than once. That was at least two of her long term dreams fulfilled, just one more to go. What happened next, she realized, was now almost completely up to her. The ball was in her court once more, as it seemed to be more often than not. That first kiss was probably the only initiating he was going to do. She had known him long enough to realize the 'risk' he had taken, and that it was probably not something he would do again in a hurry.

She wasn't quite sure how these things ended up in her hands so much of the time. She felt the urge to be child-like and 'It's not fair', but decided that was probably not the way to go.

Even now, several minutes after leaving his house, she was still so disbelieving that she hadn't brought herself to go home yet. Although she knew how much she desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes, she still hesitated leaving.

She leaned back against her still locked Denali, a triumphant grin forming on her face. She eventually realized that this was slightly odd behavior and that people would think she was a stalker or something. It took a little will power for her to move, and she fumbled around momentarily with her keys, before finally unlocking the car and driving away.

Sara now had an inability to concentrate on anything. Her mind kept wandering back to that morning. She was beginning to regret walking away at that point. All she kept thinking was about what could have happened if she had stayed. Something, which she realized now, that the chances of ever happening had been severely reduced. She sighed wearily and put the handbrake on before jumping out of the car again.

She pottered around her flat for a while, checking her messages; there weren't any, flicking through some junk mail that the mail man had handed her as she walked in the door, and tried to distract herself.

She knew she had said she needed to sleep, but if she was honest she was so wired now, she didn't think it was possible. She would probably simply have a shower and try to find something with which to entertain herself with until shift tonight. There had to be something interesting on television - not that she had much faith in the attraction of daytime TV. As long as it was something intriguing enough to keep her attention for a while, she really did not care. Somehow she doubted that anything would hold her interest for long at the moment.

Sara picked up the quilt that she had abandoned on the sofa when she had received that call earlier and gave a wry smile. If only she had known then how her evening would turn out. She folded it haphazardly and draped it over the back of her chair.

She soon returned to mulling over the events of the previous hours. She couldn't help but have worry start to creep in. What on earth was going to happen now? Did they go back to exactly how they were before, she was certainly not about to forget that had happened. The night before, fine, he was not capable of making his usual levelheaded decisions. She would have been able to forget that more easily than this morning.

She gave a quiet grunt of dissatisfaction, before peeling off her jumper and heading for a long hot shower.

ooooooooo

Grissom, for his part, was going over a similar scenario of thoughts himself. In some ways he was ecstatic, yet in many others he was still terrified. He had just taken the risk that he had spent years telling himself was just too big. There were too many ways that the whole thing could just go so wrong. Was the risk going to pay off or would there be more problems than he had even thought about?

He walked over to his kitchen table a little unsteadily, and sat down. What must she think of him now? She hadn't looked angry - for which he was eternally grateful. But she had chosen to walk away. It was not that he didn't understand the need to take a step back. But that still didn't stop him from feeling a little ill at ease.

There had been something strangely liberating about Lurie's interrogation. Even though he had been revealing his emotional hang-ups to a total stranger, a homicidal stranger no less, it seemed to take a strange weight off. He vowed that at some point he would muster the courage to tell all that to Sara, and to add that he was now ready to take that risk. He had, in fact, already taken it.

Grissom stood up again rubbing his forehead distractedly. He still had the remnants of a head ache, combined with his contemplations about the day before. He only just admitted his feelings to himself and then suddenly diving headfirst into a relationship. He debated for a moment if he was really ready for this. He then told himself that was a stupid thought. He and Sara had been doing this little dance for years; of course he was ready for this. The question now was, would he really have the guts to follow through?

He forced himself to get up and do something after going around in circles in his own head for several minutes. He picked up a paper from his coffee table and proceeded to fill in the crossword, stopping periodically to check the clock, and look back down again.

He was jerked out of his thoughts roughly by the clang of his doorbell. The sound seemed to reverberate off the hard surfaces of his apartment making it echo for far longer than he thought it should.

When Grissom opened his door, he did a visible double take, and immediately looked down at his watch even though he already knew exactly what the time was. "Work doesn't start for eight hours." He stated blandly, a little set off balance by the unexpected arrival.

Sara looked at him smiling subtly. Her only response; "I know."

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A/N: Ugh, I do this to myself way too much. I go and write myself into a corner where now I actually have to write what happens next:bangs head against wall: So… uh, what does happen next:P All ideas most welcome.


	7. Chapter VII

Secret of Faith - Part VII

A/N – Huge apologies for the wait on this, I'm an idiot and completely forgot I'd written and not posted it. Many thanks to everyone who has read, enjoyed, and told me so.

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The look on Grissom's face when he stared back at her was more than enough to put a serious dent in her confidence, of which there had been precious little to begin with. He looked shocked. There was no other way to describe it. He was looking at her as if he would be more likely to open his door and find that carnivorous aliens had landed on his doorstep to take away his bugs. Was it so unexpected? True, they didn't have to go into work for a long while, but even so, could he not at least close his mouth? He looked rather like a fish and this seemed to happen around her rather a lot, more than normal. She couldn't help but think it wasn't a good thing.

Sara had returned to the townhouse with the intention of talking to him, because god knew they both needed to get so many things out in the open. She had been avoiding the thought of his admission up to this point. It had worked quite nicely thank you very much, until she got home, and realised there was nothing to distract her from herself. Her mind bombarded her with questions unanswered, thoughts that she hadn't followed through. Looks and touches seemed to linger in her memory pounding at her, demanding her to get something, make him come up with a more satisfying explanation.

She had tried to put them firmly at the back of her mind and attempted to concentrate on what she considered the present on the important things; like the fact that he had been kissing her. Now that was very much worth concentrating on. That was something to repeat if possible. This tactic however, didn't seem to be working as well as she had hoped and she had decided that meant that she should come back, talk to him, work out what the hell it was that was going on between them. Although considering it had taken five years to get this far, she was honestly not expecting too much. Rome was not built in a day; or so she had heard.

She sighed dragging her mind swiftly back to the present, he had still not yet said a word, and she was still standing on his doorstep. This wasn't looking particularly hopeful in that respect. Sara almost wondered what could have changed in the few hours she had been gone, not that much surely. It was either her imagination, or he had come to a conclusion. She raised an eyebrow at him slightly in an attempt to pull off 'jovial', "Can I come in?"

He seemed to shake himself out of whatever doze he had been in, losing the rather contemplative look that he had been wearing. He moved to the side wandering back into the house. It was clear to her that he had spent the past few hours mulling over the events of that day. It was at this point she allowed her mind to take in the possibility that even those few hours had given him the time to back away. She wondered if he had dismissed it all completely.

"I- we need to talk." She blurted, biting her lip when she realised how blunt she had sounded. He nodded; it wasn't like he could deny it.

There was a long silence. Sara was about to open her mouth when, to her surprise, Grissom beat her to it. "I'm sorry about today."

"You already said that." She said it without any trace of malice, but it was obviously not what she had hoped to hear. She had assumed he was talking about the drinking, but now she thought about it, he could well have been talking about them. It occurred to her the moment after she had replied and she nearly swore out loud. She breathed out as he continued, trying to regain her composure. She dropped her eyes from him down to the floor, following the lines of the tiles with her eyes.

"I don't always cope with things as well as I seem to. Every time I saw her, I saw you. I related to him in some twisted way and that's what scares me as well as the thought of losing you. That you would push me away, and that I wouldn't be able to deal with that. I couldn't risk-" He was rushing through what she supposed was a speech he had been preparing in his head since the moment she had left the townhouse earlier that day. Sara broke through his monologue before he could get any further.

"I was there." She paused, taking a breath and finally meeting his gaze. "The interrogation, I was there," the silence after her words thickened by the second.

Grissom huffed a long breath out past his lips. "You were never supposed to hear that." He murmured.

"I figured." Her eyes were trained on the floor. She rubbed the denim of the knee of her jeans, perhaps trying to focus on something other that him.

In some ways admitting to hearing his confession removed her safety net, put them on an even footing where she had previously had the advantage. She should feel more vulnerable like this, but oddly enough, she just felt relieved.

"I don't have an explanation for you Sara. I don't even have an explanation for me yet" He flexed his fingers in a tense gesture.

Sara let out a quick breath, her hand automatically straying to her forehead. Once again this was not going as she had hoped. "Well… when you get one, let me know," she murmured as she stood to leave. This was not turning out at all like she had hoped. It was an even more cryptic variation of the 'I don't know what to do about this' comment, which was not particularly comforting. That hadn't come to anything either. Every time this happened she fell a little bit further, and he was never there ready to catch her at the bottom. She walked away steadily, determined never to let him see how much he hurt her.

She had thought they had been getting somewhere. It turned out that she had been wrong, and had her hopes dashed yet again. It often seemed that for every step forward they took it was another five steps back again. It was like a game of Snakes and Ladders. Sara had never liked that game anyway. It ran on pure luck, something she never seemed to have much of. The silence was getting stale again, uncomfortable like she rarely experienced with him. Their mind-meld seemed to be on hiatus for today, and she didn't think it could have picked a worse time if it had tried.

Now she simply wanted to be physically as far from Grissom as she could be so she backed away swiftly. She had only just arrived and wanted out already. Anything that might limit her acute embarrassment, and more importantly give her time to pull herself together before she had to see him at work later. She had to see him every day from now on, and thinking of this, remembering what had been said was not going to help. She knew there was a reason people warned you about this.

"Sara," She stopped abruptly on hearing her name and resignedly turned back to face him. He looked as if he were battling to push the words out, his jaw shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want you to go." She felt the hope flare up in her chest again, before quashing it as effectively as she could. She was fairly sure he must have seen the anticipation light in her eyes. He continued, growing more confident, "I may not have all the answers yet, but what I do know- is that I want you here." The last few words were rushed, as if he were getting them out as fast as possible in case he lost the courage in those few moments.

Sara couldn't have pinpointed the exact meaning of his words, but honestly she didn't really want to anymore. It was a positive response and that was all that mattered. He wanted her, he wanted to try. Vague assent was better than nothing, and it gave her the chance she had always wanted. She could feel the statement hit home in moments. Her head was suddenly empty of all of her previous nerves, she could focus only on his words. There it was, hopes raised, again, before he would drag them straight back to earth with a bump. To remain even slightly stoic was more than a challenge.

She swallowed nervously and nodded with far more confidence than she felt, a tentative smile spreading across her face. As his hand trailed over her shoulder she couldn't help but lean into him, gravitating into his body as if drawn by an unseen force.

"What I don't understand," he paused moving back from her and rubbing the back of a hand over his beard and dropping his voice, "-why did you keep waiting?"

She seemed to think for a moment, her eyes never leaving his face. "I can't just switch off my feelings. It doesn't work like that," she then grinned, "-and I'm stubborn like that, you should know."

He nodded knowingly, "I never imagined you would wait this long for me."

Sara chuckled quietly, "Yeah, well neither did I."

End.


End file.
